


Fragments

by Resa_Saso



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: It starts angsty, M/M, because I felt like it, but it's honestly just a bit Doctor/Master fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 12:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19394284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resa_Saso/pseuds/Resa_Saso
Summary: The Doctor has fallen into a coma, and the Master gets called for help.





	Fragments

Jack had expected that he would need to explain more. Had expected Rose to cling to the Doctor and not let anyone take her place by his side.

But the second the Master had entered, new hope spread on her face instead, the purple rings underneath her widened eyes barely visible anymore, as she looked up.

“Who’s that?” she asked, and Jack was scared to hear how tired and lifeless her voice sounded – She had really needed some new hope. And even more so, she needed some sleep.

He sighed.

Unbelievable, that the Master, out of all people, was supposed to be their last hope.

“His name’s the Master,” he had told her. “He’s a…”

But he didn’t even need to say more. Rose had already jumped up, leaving the Doctor’s side for the first time ever since he had fallen silent, and stepped towards the Master, taking his hands.

He was eying her with alarmed suspicion, but to Jack’s surprise, didn’t pull away his hands.

“Please. Please help him. He hasn’t woken up in weeks. He doesn’t even notice we’re here, I just don’t… I don’t know what more to do. He said… he said you’re brilliant. You can help him, can’t you?”

He had told her about him, Jack realized then. The Doctor had told her about the Master.

He wasn’t sure what to think of that.

“I can try,” the Master mumbled, sounding unusual quiet, his eyes fixed on the Doctor’s pale frame, as he walked up to the bed to take Rose’s place, pulled the Doctor’s head into his lap, both hands placed on his temples, and closed his eyes.

The scene in front of the Master’s eyes was as unsurprising as it was horrific.

The Time War at it’s fullest, the Doctor, in the middle of it, children screaming and burning right in front of their eyes, flames ablaze up to the sky, whose red had taken a violent shade, not the one they had come to know from the fiery beautiful sunsets of Gallifrey.

There was nothing but terror and pain, screams and pleas, as Daleks and Gallifreyans burned alike, the air full of the most horrific sounds the Master had ever heard.

His arms were covered in goose bumps as he took a hesitant step into the mess. He realized that they were in a loop, but not the sort of replay that showed the same scenes again and again until the brain numbs from the horror if it.

Instead, the Time War seemed to start and end again and again, and a new side was shown, a new terror gripped the Doctor’s hearts. He could now see the stars, other planets from the distance, lose their lights one by one, he could see children crawling towards the Doctor, faces bloody and contorted, but their blood-shot eyes still full of accusation.

“You did this to us,” they proclaimed with hoarse, hollow voices. “You did this and now you burn with us.”

The Doctor wept, hands over his eyes as if it could block out the pictures, but the Master had been in his place often enough, and he knew this was not how the mind worked. They would be there, no matter what.

The scene changed again. A man ran towards the Doctor, wearing lumps of what the Master could _just_ identify as a Time Lord robes and a weapon raised, aimed to kill. He was screaming violently. An act of despair, a means to stop the Doctor from ending Gallifrey, ending all he held dear, his home, his family…

He knew there was nothing the Doctor hoped for more, than that he would succeed, even as he picked a sharpened pipe up from the shambles on the floor and raised it, ready to let the man run into his end.

With a heap, the Master was by his side, took the pipe and rammed it right through the attacker’s heart. Pulled it out, just to be safe – and because the sounds were really satisfying – and rammed it into the other heart.

“Being a killer is my part, I believe. Let’s not try switching roles, it doesn’t suit you.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened, he looked down at the blood to his feet, as the man sank to the ground with a gurgle, then to the Master.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, the pure image of confusion. “You’re dead in this one.”

“Actually, I’m not,” the Master shrugged. “I’m _here_ in this one.”

He summoned his own little scene, in desperate hopes that it might distract the Doctor from his own personal hell.

There he was, in his former body, all silver-haired, chuckling darkly as a fleet of Daleks were tricked into their doom by his very own hands.

“You saved us, Doctor!”

“That’s not my name,” the Master commented with a roll of his eyes. “And not who I am. I didn’t save you. You’re irrelevant. But I stopped _them_.”

The boy ran, before he could even finish the sentence, back to his family, trying to escape the flames coming their way.

He could hear the Daleks from the broken communicator on the floor, pronouncing him an enemy of the Daleks in an ever-repeating loop, and snorted.

“Can’t exactly put that on my resumé, can I? It’s not an achievement if everyone is.”

He stepped onto the communicator – Just for good measure and made his way back to his TARDIS.

Next to him, the Doctor showed a first, shaky smile.

“I didn’t even know you were alive back then.”

“Couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?” the Master sneered, but a little grin of relief appeared on his face. “I had quite an adventure, actually. Did you know I was the one who helped the Daleks take over Arcadia? Granted, it wasn’t my intention…” He frowned. “Actually wanted to help for once.”

The little scene appeared all on its own, built around them, the Master gaping in horror as the Daleks took over, his own plans in shatters around him, and he ran, he ran so far away…

With an annoyed movement of his hand, the current Master wiped away the scene. To his relief, it wasn’t replaced with the ever burning Gallifrey – They were now standing in the fields, healthy, rising red suns on the sky above them.

For a second, the Master wondered which of their minds had conjured this landscape.

The Doctor’s smile had widened in a mix of amusement and affection. “Typical. Have you ever noticed that your plans always end up in chaos that usually turns against you?”

“Well, that’s mostly thanks to you,” the Master gave back grimly.

That was, when the Doctor’s face got serious again and the smile was wiped away from a deep, burrowed frown.

“What are you doing here? Why are you in my head?”

He pulled a mildly wounded grimace.

“What? You’ve never been thinking of me before? You insult me.”

The Doctor’s face softened, but it only let the Master see how tired he was. There was resign all over his face, and deep, deep inside his eyes.

“Of course I do.”

Around them, different versions of the Master were involved in several fights, all at the same time, each with a different Doctor. There was his old, bearded self, shooting the Doctor in his UNIT times, there was his other bearded self (honestly, a lot of beards, he should really think about growing one in this body!), burning to death on Sarn, begging the Doctor to save him. There was the Master falling into his Eye of Harmony, and at last, there he was, dying in this Doctor’s arms, while he wept and sobbed over his dead body, getting his suit all wet from his tears.

And in the middle of it, stood the Doctor, regret and despair edged onto his face like he was born out of it.

“Aw, sweet,” the Master threw in sarcastically, if only to tear the Doctor out of his dark thoughts. “A highlight compilation.”

“These aren’t highlights,” the Doctor gave back, and he sounded so awfully _tired_. “We’re just fighting and dying and hurting, it’s nothing but pain.”

“Now, that’s not true _at all_ , is it?”

With a raised eyebrow, the Master let these images of them disappear, whirl away like clouds of dust, and replaced them with other memories, replaced each of them with the same versions, but each of them working together instead against each other.

He pursed his lips as he realized how many of these situations were born out of backfired plans of his – Maybe there was something right about what the Doctor had said. Not, that he’d ever admit that.

He could see him watch with new light in his eyes, the hint of a smile making the corner of his mouth twitch.

“You’re real, aren’t you? You’re really here.”

The Master shrugged.

“I’m always real. Well, almost always. 80% of the time. Maybe a little less.”

Next to him, a sneering, bearded android appeared, and proclaimed in weirdly echoing voice, that he was the Doctor’s companion.

He let his fist run into the image without watching, letting it dissolve into a thousand little particles.

“Oh, shut up.”

Now the Doctor grinned, proper and all puppy, just like he knew him.

The Master couldn’t stop himself from grinning back.

“You’re in my mind,” the Doctor said after a little while. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Your little friends asked me to help you. Been in a coma for a while, and no shaking and tossing seemed to have woken you up – Believe me, they tried.” The Master grinned mockingly. “Humans. Not very inventive, are they?”

The Doctor looked at him in confusion. “How did they find you?”

With wiggling eyebrows, he made a cell phone appear right into his hand, then threw it at the Doctor to catch.

“The freak called me. Apparently, _someone_ has me on speed dial.”

The Doctor caught the phone with a grin, but the second he held it in his hands, it had turned into a yellow daffodil.

“Come on, Thete,” the Master insisted, his tone suddenly more serious than it had been the whole time before. “Let’s get out of here. You’ve been in here long enough. Wallowing in here won’t bring Gallifrey back. Let’s save some planets, eh? Do some penance.”

But the Doctor shoulders sank, as he looked at him, and his eyes got back the desperate, haunted look.

“Everything I touch falls apart.”

“And everything you don’t, burns ablaze.” The Master stepped closer, lying a finger underneath the Doctor’s chin, to make him meet his eyes, boring into them with more affection than he usually allowed himself. “They need you out there, Doctor. Without you, there’s just chaos. And I’m bored shitless, I mean, who am I gonna torture out there if you’re not there?”

“We don’t have to be like this,” the Doctor gave back, his voice almost a whisper. “We don’t have to always be enemies.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. What else would we be?”

The Doctor’s eyes widened in front of him and were suddenly fixed on a point behind his shoulder. The Master didn’t need to turn around to know which memories had just appeared behind him – And so he didn’t, because if he was sure of one thing, it was that he could not take to look at it.

“Oh, forget about that,” he swallowed hard, and could feel the pictures disappear along with the disappointment that was now being showed on the Doctor’s face.

“Tell you what,” he sighed. “You still owe me a date. I call a truce for that and you take me somewhere where the food is actually good, and no _human_ is around, how does that sound?”

The Doctor’s face lighted up again and The Master rolled his eyes.

“For that you’re gonna have to leave, though.”

To his relief, the Doctor nodded. Biting his lip, he looked around one more time. The scene had returned to the peaceful image of the red fields of Gallifrey, lying there quiet, and so very much alive.

“Don’t you miss home, sometimes?” he asked quietly.

The Master looked around alongside him, shrugging indifferently.

“Yeah,” he confided. “That’s why it really sucks when home just goes and has the audacity to fall into a coma. Come on, Thete. Off we go.”

He took the Doctor’s hands and with a little smile, he let himself be led out of his guilt and the darkness that had held him prisoner, until his mind finally felt like his own mind again, faded back into the background and let him go with a relieved little “pop”.

Though the Master actually had just added that for special effects.  


Rose barely let him breathe when he returned, and only, for a single second, let go of the Doctor to jump into the Master’s arms instead, thanking him enthusiastically for saving him.

Mildly surprised, the Master had let it happen, but his arms were stiff next to his body and his eyes fixed on the Doctor, searching for help.

Instead, the Time Lord giggled.

The Freak looked at him somewhat darkly, and the Master realized within an instant, that he didn’t like the fact that _he_ was the one to bring back the Doctor one bit.

He grinned.

“Feeling better?” Jack asked, trying his best to keep his jealousy back as he turned to the Doctor.

He nodded, giving him and Rose an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for scaring you. Time Lords can… get lost in their own minds, sometimes.”

“It’s our PTSD,” the Master threw in helpfully. “Well. If I say ‘our’…”

“Everyone else but you, because you have no conscience, got it,” Jack remarked dryly.

The Doctor looked from one to the other and sighed.

“Yes. Well. Anyway. The Master helped me break free of that.” He cast Jack a little glare, that unmistakably seemed to say “ _See? Not all that bad_!”

The Master was still contemplating whether he should be insulted by that or not, when the Doctor suddenly laid an arm around his waist, grinning widely.

“And he’s agreed to be part of the crew now.”

“Wait,” the Master gulped, his head spinning around to look at him in alarm. “I never said _that_!”

“Well,” the Doctor grinned, while heading to his TARDIS console, all ready for action again, now. “You agreed to go on a date with me, and I don’t know if you knew, but I am _really_ bad at getting to the right destination.”


End file.
